journey

In 2019, a Sudanese team of jiu-jitsu athletes set out on an extraordinary quest: to travel by land from Sudan to Kenya, despite having no funding and limited resources, to compete in the LionHeart Nairobi Open.

Together members of the Muqatel Training Center for martial arts travelled across three countries, carrying not just their hopes and dreams, but the spirit of a revolution that reshaped Sudan.

Journey to Kenya is a documentary short about resilience, unity and determination — a powerful reminder that dreams can transcend borders.

A film by Ibrahim “Snoopy” Ahmed, produced by In Deep Visions.

In the world of child prodigies, novelists are the rarest breed. Barbara Newhall Follett, born in Hanover, N.H., in 1914, fit the bill. By the time she was 9 years-old she had completed her first novel, a subsequent draft of which was published by Knopf when she was 12. Two years after that, she released her second novel. Both were met with critical acclaim, and Newhall became a celebrity in the publishing world.

Nearly a decade later, after a fight with her adulterous husband, the 25-year-old Follett left her apartment in Brookline, Mass., with $30 in her pocket and a notebook. She was never seen or heard from again. The mystery of the vanished former child genius has pulled at the public imagination ever since, resulting in a number of books and articles about her life and disappearance, including a 2019 essay in the Los Angeles Review of Books speculating that Newhall had committed suicide by ingesting barbiturates.

Barbara Follett, a child literary prodigy, is the subject of a new musical titled “Perfect World.”

(Courtesy of Stefan Cooke / Farksolia.org)

A world-premiere musical can now be added to the growing list of Newhall-themed explorations. “Perfect World,” written by Alan Edmunds and composed by Richard Winzeler, with lyrics by both men, opens Saturday at the El Portal Theatre in North Hollywood, running through Nov. 9.

The project marks Edmunds’ debut as a librettist. The retired psychologist — who specialized in gifted children — hit upon the idea of creating a musical about Follett’s life after a deep dive into her archives at Columbia University almost 15 years ago.

“As I’m reading through this, I start to feel the tragedy of what really happened to her,” Edmunds said during an interview at the theater over the pounding of hammers and the buzzing of drills as the detailed set was put together. “I thought this is the hero’s journey. Unfortunately, it’s not a happy ending.”

Edmunds was so inspired by the 15 boxes of archival material, including hundreds of hand-typed letters that Follett wrote to dozens of relatives and acquaintances, and endless lyrical descriptions of the imaginary world of Farksolia at the heart of her debut novel, “The House Without Windows,” that he drafted his initial outline for the musical on his knee while taking the subway from Columbia to Broadway to see “La Cage aux Folles.”

The show’s team took creative license in the retelling of Follett’s story, but for the most part Edmunds adhered to the broad strokes of her short, vibrant life. The musical hops back and forth between two story lines: Follett’s experiences up until her disappearance, and the nationwide investigation that unfolded afterward, led by the dogged Capt. Stahl and forever pushed forward by her grieving mother, Helen Thomas Follett.

Follett’s childhood was marked by unhappiness, Edmunds said, noting that Helen, who wrote for a commercial shipping company, and Follett’s father, a Knopf literary editor named Wilson Follett, fought often.

“They were at each other hammer and tongs,” Edmunds said. “And even when they wrote about Barbara, subsequently, you could feel the animosity between them.”

This made sense because about a year after the publication of Barbara Follett’s first book, Wilson left Helen for a much younger woman, moving in with her in Greenwhich Village. Her father’s desertion dealt a crushing blow to Barbara, who adored him. She subsequently embarked on a sailing journey with Helen from New York to Barbados and then on through the Panama Canal. Barbara became seriously ill during the journey — the result of nerves and depression, Helen thought.

Barbara Follett, a child literary prodigy, is the subject of a new musical titled “Perfect World.”

(Courtesy of Stefan Cooke / Farksolia.org)

Around that time, Follett met and fell in love with a 25-year-old sailor named Edward Anderson. Helen did not approve, and Edmunds said she conspired to get Anderson fired from his position as second mate. The loss of Anderson was the second major blow in Follett’s life, Edmunds said, and it’s a thread that runs through the musical, leading to Follett’s meeting with a recent Dartmouth graduate named Nickerson Rogers — the man who would become her husband, and who would eventually leave her after having an affair with her best childhood friend.

The couple shared a love of nature, and before they were married, spent months hiking and camping together along the Appalachian Trail. Photos from the early 1930s show a slender, bare-legged Follett with short-cropped hair, sitting beside an open fire with a cooking pan and an old tin coffee pot.

Follett’s life was filled with crushing disappointment and near-constant stress, but nature provided a release. This is likely why she conjured up the perfect world of Farksolia at such a young age. It was an escape, and Follett packed it with as much detail as possible, including its own system of mathematics, its own language — Farksoo — and its own alphabet.

The heroine of “The House Without Windows” is a young girl named Eepersip who runs away from home to live contentedly with her animal friends in the woods. If it sounds simple, it was. But that was also its genius.

Critics loved it and it sold more than 20,000 copies upon its initial printing.

“I can safely promise joy to any reader of ‘The House Without Windows.’ Perfection,” wrote the English author of children’s books, Eleanor Farjeon, in a review.

Barbara Follett, a child literary prodigy, is the subject of a new musical titled “Perfect World.”

(Courtesy of Stefan Cooke / Farksolia.org)

There are many theories about what happened to the adventurous and headstrong young woman after she vanished, including that she was killed by her husband, who had demanded she stop writing and failed to report her missing until two weeks after she left. Others think she simply moved far away, changed her name and continued to write under a pseudonym. Then there is the recently surfaced idea that she went to a family-owned cottage in the woods and swallowed enough barbiturates to end her life. That theory holds that a body discovered in the late 1940s was misidentified as another woman, when it was actually Follett.

Edmunds has given the matter extensive thought and believes that Follett loved life too much to kill herself. The idea that appeals to him the most comes from a crumb of a clue in Follett’s archives — a letter from the sailor Anderson that Follett received a short time before her disappearance. It could be surmised from her letters that she never stopped loving Anderson. Could it be that she went to find him when her husband’s affair became known to her?

Edmunds ultimately decided not to go down the rabbit hole of speculation about Follett’s demise, opting instead to focus the musical on Follett’s life, “What she did, how she rescued herself, how she was so engaged and connected to nature, and how she wanted people to take care of each other and be good to each other,” Edmunds said. “How we could have a better world.”

The Bentham Line, nestled in the scenic northern English countryside, offers more than just a train ride; it’s an opportunity to immerse oneself in an almost three hour train ride to the coast

Lonely Planet, the renowned travel guide experts, have just unveiled their much-anticipated Best in Travel guide for 2025. The guide features 30 must-visit destinations for the upcoming year and reveals the top 10 travel trends.

One of these trends is the simple joy of train hopping, turning a regular train journey into an exciting adventure by getting off at different stops along the way. The Bentham Line, tucked away in the picturesque northern English countryside, offers more than just a means of transport; it’s a chance to embark on a nearly three-hour journey to the coast.

Labelled as a “near-secret” by the experts, this lesser-known 75-mile train route is predicted to be one of the UK’s best train journeys for 2025, reports the Express.

This historic line, which stretches between Leeds, Lancaster and Morecambe, meanders through charming villages, rolling hills and historic towns, encouraging travellers to step back in time.

For over 170 years, The Bentham Line has been a crucial link for local communities.

The 75-mile (120 km) trans-pennine journey starts in the heart of West Yorkshire, crosses stunning valleys, passes the Ribblehead Viaduct and the Yorkshire Dales National Park, before ending at the scenic shores of Morecambe Bay.

The Bentham Line, a gem in Scenic Rail Britain’s crown, is managed by a community rail partnership (CRP), bringing together local community groups and organisations to enhance the passenger experience.

Setting off from Leeds Station, the journey winds its way westwards, swiftly trading the city’s frantic energy for the peaceful countryside of the Yorkshire Dales.

The service calls at Shipley, Bingley, and Keighley before arriving at Skipton, dubbed the “Gateway to the Dales.”

Boasting a 900-year-old castle and a historic cobbled High Street, this town serves as a beloved day-trip spot encircled by stunning landscapes.

Another favourite destination to disembark is Giggleswick.

This charming village, nestled just beyond the market town of Settle, boasts numerous elegant properties and a historic church featuring captivating architectural details.

The distinctive copper dome of Giggleswick School’s Chapel dominates the horizon, creating a striking landmark across the region.

Every station along this route provides its own enchanting experience.

Step into yesteryear at Carnforth, where the railway station served as the backdrop for the most memorable moments in the 1945 classic Brief Encounter, or alight at Lancaster to discover the Edwardian butterfly conservatory in the ‘Taj Mahal of the North’ alongside Lancaster Castle.

Travellers can marvel at the classic Yorkshire stone architecture and the magnificent Ribblehead Viaduct, a remarkable example of Victorian craftsmanship.

Beyond this point stretches the tranquil Lune Valley, an unspoilt expanse of countryside that traces the River Lune, providing breathtaking panoramas around every bend.

The journey concludes in Morecambe, a seaside town where the vast horizon meets the Irish Sea.

Known for its Winter Gardens, the iconic art deco Midland Hotel and its broad sandy bay, visitors are drawn here to enjoy fish and chips on the seafront after a charming train ride.

Whether you’re a seasoned traveller or simply in need of a breath of fresh air, The Bentham Line offers an effortless route through some of England’s most captivating landscapes.

It serves as a reminder that the finest travel experiences aren’t always about the destination, but the journey itself.

So, hop on board, and let the rhythm of the rails carry you away.

Thousands of displaced Palestinians have begun returning to their abandoned and mostly destroyed homes, as the ceasefire between Israel and Hamas takes hold, with Israeli forces withdrawing from parts of Gaza.

Families started moving from western residential areas on Friday back towards Gaza City’s main districts, areas from which they were previously forced to flee.

Several Israeli military brigades and divisions have pulled out from central Gaza regions as well.

At the Nuseirat camp in central Gaza, families have begun travelling northward, though many remain waiting to enter areas in the Netzarim Corridor, where Israeli forces were stationed. They are holding there until the final Israeli tank departs the area.

Concerning developments include heightened activity of Israeli drones, fighter jets, and warships since early morning. Multiple attacks were reported in the morning at locations where people were gathering to return home.

A huge procession of displaced Palestinians moved northward through dust-filled roads towards Gaza City, the territory’s largest urban centre, which had experienced intense Israeli military operations just days earlier.

“Thank God my house is still standing,” said Ismail Zayda, 40, in the Sheikh Radwan area in Gaza City. “But the place is destroyed, my neighbours’ houses are destroyed, entire districts have gone.”

The Israeli military announced the ceasefire agreement took effect at noon local time (09:00 GMT). Israel’s government ratified the ceasefire with Hamas early Friday, setting in motion a partial troop withdrawal and complete suspension of hostilities in Gaza within 24 hours.

Israeli captives are scheduled for release within 72 hours afterwards, in exchange for hundreds of Palestinian prisoners held in Israel.

The first phase of United States President Trump’s plan to end the two-year Gaza conflict requires Israeli forces to withdraw from major urban centres, though they will maintain control of approximately half the enclave’s territory.

Once the agreement takes effect, aid trucks carrying food and medical supplies will enter Gaza to assist civilians, hundreds of thousands of whom have been living in tents after their homes were destroyed and entire cities reduced to rubble.

The page you were looking for cannot be found.

The page may no longer exist or may have moved to another web address. Try again to locate what you want by choosing a section from the navigation menu at left, viewing our Site Map or using the search box below.

Most Read Stories

A recent study analysing passenger review data has named the best train journey in all of Europe, offering travellers unparalleled views of the Scottish Highlands

A scenic train trip across Scotland has been named the best in Europe according to a new study. The journey offers impeccable views of some of the country’s most iconic vistas and natural landmarks.

Conducted by FruityKing, a recent study analysed the rating data of thousands of passenger reviews to determine which European train lines offer the most scenic routes for travellers. The analysis revealed that the Kyle Line had the highest average passenger rating, scoring 4.72 out of a possible 5.

The Kyle Line runs from Inverness to Kyle of Lochalsh. Inverness makes for the starting point of multiple great day trips, including a full-day trip through the Isle of Skye, which you can find via TripAdvisor.

The Kyle Line costs £32 to ride and accompanying children can travel for a mere £1 return each, with up to four children allowed per adult. The line crosses some of the most awe-inspiring and remote landscapes in the Scottish Highlands.

Passengers can comfortably enjoy panoramic views of misty mountains including Ben Wyvis in Easter Ross, the Torridon Peaks in the Northwestern Highlands, and the famous Loch Luichart Estate.

Travellers interested in exploring more under-the-radar destinations along the line can also consider a stop in Duirinish. Trainline has highlighted the town as one of the most underrated, isolated destinations on the UK rail network.

A spokesperson for the ticketing app told the Mirror: “The penultimate stop on the Kyle line, the UK’s most remote yet underrated railway, and with only 17 passengers booked via Trainline in the last year, Duirinish is frequently overlooked.

“This quaint township provides insight into crofting, a practice unique to the Highlands, with the opportunity to spot Highland cows thanks to a nearby dedicated tour.” While you’re there, you can get off at the market town of Dingwall for the Far North Line for more distinctive mountain range views and the Torridon Peaks.

The journey from Inverness to Kyle of Lochalsh takes roughly 2 hours and 40 minutes, so you can return back to Inverness on the same day.

The passenger review study listed the Isle of Man Steam Railway as the second best train journey in Europe, earning an impressive average rating score of 4.71 out of 5 based on 1,327 reviews.

Ffestiniog and Welsh Highland Railways and West Somerset Railway were also highlighted as top train lines in the study.

As well, Switzerland’s Bernina Express made the list with an average passenger rating of 4.67. The renowned route traverses the Swiss Alps through staggering and stunning mountain passes.

THEY say that a cat has nine lives – and this particular one has used up several of his.

For the life of Cat Stevens, the singer-songwriter who became Yusuf after converting to Islam, has been shaped by his brushes with death.

8

8

8

The first of them happened in his early teens when the teeming streets — and inviting rooftops — of London’s West End were his playground.

One night, while out gallivanting with his best friend Andy, he found himself clinging by his fingertips to a ledge, several storeys up, near Prince’s Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue.

Fall and his short life would be over but, as “the dark abyss” beckoned, Andy stretched out, grabbed his arm and pulled him to safety in the nick of time.

“It was the moment I first faced up to mortality,” Yusuf tells me, casting his mind back to the early Sixties.

“I already considered myself as a thinker by then and, as such, you can’t help thinking that one day you won’t be here.

“Whether it’s through an accident or illness or by dying in your sleep, it’s all one thing. You leave this world.

“That to me was a problem. I just had to understand more about it.”

So began a spiritual quest that Yusuf has carried with him to this day.
Two more narrow escapes followed.

In 1969, he contracted a life-threatening bout of TB which required months of recuperation.

With time to ponder his existence, he underwent a rapid transformation from Carnaby Street-styled pop star to tousle-haired, guitar-toting troubadour.

His thoughtful but hook-laden songs began flowing freely — Father And Son, Wild World, Moonshadow and Peace Train among them — and they made him a global superstar and bedsit pin-up.

Then, in 1976, he nearly drowned while swimming    off the coast of Malibu, California.

As his life ebbed away, he looked up to the sky and prayed, “Oh God, if You save me, I’ll work for You!”

At that moment, a wave rose up and nudged him towards dry land. He sensed that, “God was right there”.

Not long afterwards, his brother David Gordon bought him a copy of the Qur’an for his birthday.

It had a dramatic effect, prompting Cat Stevens to embrace Islam, change his name to Yusuf (a variation on Joseph) and begin a lengthy retreat from music.

He says: “I was like, ‘This is actually it’.

“Everything I’d been writing in my songs was converging into this one new message. It overtook everything.”

And yet, as we know, there was a second coming.

For the past two decades, Yusuf has rekindled his passion for songcraft — releasing acclaimed albums and keeping his timeless Cat Stevens songs alive with gigs around the world, including the Glastonbury “legends” slot.

‘BLANK CANVAS’

Now he has documented his singular journey in a heartfelt, detailed, illuminating, funny, sad, often profound memoir, Cat: On The Road To Findout.

There’s also a hits album celebrating his various eras, and last weekend he embarked on a book tour of the UK and US, described as “an evening of tales, tunes and other mysteries”.

That means I’ve been given another chance to speak to Yusuf via video call.

With his neat grey/white hair and beard framing still handsome features, the 77-year-old greets me warmly before diving into subjects closest to his heart.

After our chat ends, I realise we’ve covered his faith, his family, his music, the impact of those near-death experiences — all the things which have moulded Yusuf/Cat Stevens.

If I had to pick his defining song, I know which one I’d go for and I think the man himself might agree.

It’s the fourth track on side two (I’m going vinyl here) of his classic 1970 album Tea For The Tillerman.

Called, as you might have guessed, On The Road To Find Out, it serves as his mission statement — an early acknowledgement of his spiritual journey.

Recalling its creation, Yusuf says: “I had scraped my way through a lot of life’s difficulties and challenges but they were the things which built me and prepared me.

“So I was already feeling like a receptacle for some kind of inspiration to be my guide.”

I watch as he recites the opening lines of the song he’s sung so many times, “Well I left my happy home to see what I could find out/I left my folk and friends with the aim to clear my mind out.”

He maintains that when he wrote On The Road To Find Out, not being tied to one religion proved “very, very useful”.

“I wanted a blank canvas,” he says. “I didn’t want to be influenced by my background or wherever I was situated in society.”

8

Yusuf draws my attention to the end of the song and adds: “It’s incredible really. It says, ‘Pick up a good book’.

“I was absolutely determined to write ‘a’ good book, not ‘the’ good book. I didn’t want people to think it had to be The Bible.”

His thoughts turn towards his childhood, his first encounters with spirituality and the parents he writes so affectionately about in his memoir.

His “handsome, bold” Cypriot cafe owner father Stavros was Greek Orthodox and his “beautiful azure blue-eyed” Swedish mother Ingrid was a Baptist.

They sent their youngest of three children, Steven Demetre Georgiou, as he was known then, to St Joseph’s Roman Catholic elementary school and he also attended Mass.

Though this was the first time he came “close to God”, he still felt like an “outsider” as a non-Catholic.

“Sometimes, the church itself can be a barrier between you and your creator,” muses Yusuf.

“When Jesus was asked how to pray, he didn’t say go to church. He said, ‘Pray direct to God’.

Mum taught me how to love and dad taught me how to work

Yusuf/Cat Stevens

“I was fortunate not to be tied to a strict religion.

“That gave me flexibility — I achieved my observer status as far as spirituality was concerned.”

As a child, Yusuf was given a lively introduction to the world.

“Growing up in the West End had a big impact on me,” he says.

“It felt like the whole world was crammed into this little area of London where everything happened.

“You didn’t necessarily learn how to climb trees, but you did learn how to climb roofs,” he adds with a rueful smile about the time he nearly fell.

Next, I ask him to share memories of his parents.

“Mum taught me how to love and dad taught me how to work,” he replies.

Yusuf says that his mother Ingrid “had a massive impact on me”.

“Swedes have a characteristic which is beautiful in a way. It is called ‘lagom’ which means equality — you don’t need everything, you just need enough.

8

“From that, you can develop your attitude towards charity and all sorts of things.”

He continues: “Mind you, Dad was also charitable. He used to give cups of tea to tramps.

“It was part of the culture of the family to appreciate having food on the table.”

Yusuf describes how his father Stavros “first went from Cyprus to settle in Egypt”.

“Then he went to America and, from there, he passed back through Greece to the UK — you know, to the Empire, because Cyprus was connected to Britain at that time.

“He gave me the traveller’s bug and also a work ethic. I certainly know how to wash dishes!”

Yusuf credits his parents to a certain extent for his love of music and performing.

He remembers writing a “sweet Swedish lullaby” with his “naturally musical” mother while they sat at the piano.

The final couplet translates as, “Come will you take my hand and lead me away/The way to my heart is so short.”

In the book, Yusuf describes Ingrid’s strength of character when she discovered her husband was having an affair with a waitress, leading to their separation.

She whisked her children to her hometown of Gavle for five months, where young Steven was the only “dark-eyed, black-haired lad in town”.

‘SO FORTUNATE’

Yusuf says his “extrovert” father probably gave him the characteristics to command a stage.

“He was extremely sociable to customers and an expert at Greek dancing with glasses of water balanced on his head.”

One of the most moving passages in the book arrives when Yusuf gets to 1978 and his dad has only days to live.

Stavros had called him “Stevie” from the day he was born but, as he lay on his deathbed, he whispered, “Where’s Yusuf?”

It was an act of acceptance for Yusuf’s Muslim faith for which he is eternally thankful.

He says: “You called your son one name all your life, and that’s the one you chose for him.

“Then, at the end, you accept his path and his identity. You don’t detach from it, you embrace it.

“My God, I was so fortunate. I was so lucky to have a dad like that.”

Now it’s time to turn our attention to music… after all, it’s what made Yusuf/Cat Stevens famous.

In the autobiography, he recalls buying his first single, Baby Face by Little Richard, how much he loved Buddy Holly and how later on he was blown away by John Lennon’s mighty holler on The Beatles’ cover of Twist And Shout.

8

He tells me with a laugh: “You can just imagine the Queen at the Royal Variety Show watching The Beatles and wanting to pull off her pearls and diamonds and dance in the aisles.

“But I’m afraid she couldn’t.”

So what compelled him, already a gifted visual artist, to venture into the music business and adopt the “hip” stage name Cat Stevens?

“I felt I had something to offer,” he replies. “I felt that people should get it.

“It wasn’t just a career choice or business decision. It was more than that — it felt like a calling.

“I responded to it and it responded to me. My songs, everything, came so easily.

“I wrote The First Cut Is The Deepest when I was 17 [in 1965].

“My brother David also had a big hand in it because he was the business head of the family.

“He was instrumental in getting me contacts.”

After a run of hits including I Love My Dog, Matthew & Son and I’m Gonna Get Me A Gun, Cat Stevens went through his dramatic change of tack, prompted by him contracting TB.

“It was an opportunity to take another stab at life — from a new, inspired position,” says Yusuf.

As human beings, our way forward is to understand that we’re all the same in our dreams, our visions and our hopes

Yusuf/Cat Stevens

“By that time, I’d read a very interesting book dealing with metaphysical issues of the spirit, the soul, the beyond, the divine. It put me on another plateau.”

One of the songs written by the “new” Cat Stevens was Where Do The Children Play?, as relevant today as ever.

He says: “There’s a very poignant line pointing to what we are facing today, which is assisted dying.

“I say, ‘Will you tell us when to live/Will you tell us when to die?’.

“I mean, God Almighty, you’ve got a chance to live. You don’t want to lose that.

“When you look at the way the corporate world is moving, it really is designing life for the people of this planet.

“And it may not be the best life because we’re detached from nature so much of the time.

“Where Do The Children Play? is a song about nature and children are perfect examples of human nature.”

Before we go our separate ways, I ask Yusuf about the long hiatus from music after his conversion to Islam.

It was a time when he was dragged into various controversies.

One headline, which he repeats in the book, even read, “Cat Stevens Joins The Evil Ayatollah”.

“It’s just prejudice,” says Yusuf. “And that is something we have to be very careful about.

“As human beings, our way forward is to understand that we’re all the same in our dreams, our visions and our hopes.”

This comment reminds him of “what we’re seeing right now in Palestine”.

8

8

“These are people, these are families,” he says. “They’re not from an alien planet.

“That’s why it’s good to see the response from ordinary grandparents and ordinary kids, responding to the devastation people are facing.

“You may argue about the term genocide, but you can’t argue about the term infanticide.”

Returning to his break from music, he says: “I have no regrets at all. I chose the name Cat Stevens and was content with that.

“That was my success but it was not the success I was yearning for overall in my life.

“The biggest thing for me was finding my identity — and that’s twice as difficult when you have a show name.”

It was Yusuf’s son Yoriyos, one of his five children with wife Fauzia (a sixth died in infancy), who encouraged him to make his comeback.

“He got what I was about and he said, ‘This cannot be buried’.

“It wasn’t a case of reinventing, more of reviving the spirit. He saw it as a pure, good thing — and it inspired me.”

Finally, I ask Yusuf if he’s still on the road to find out.

He answers: “There’s a saying in the Qur’an — ‘If all the seas were ink and all the trees were pens, you would never exhaust the words and the knowledge of God’.

“So, yeah, no fear about drying up here.”

Greg Louganis is starting a new chapter in his life.

The U.S. diving legend has auctioned off three of the five Olympic medals he won between 1976-1988, sold his home and is parting with most of his other possessions as part of a journey of self-discovery that is taking him, at least for now, to Panama.

“So, as life moves forward, what are you prepared to leave behind?” Louganis wrote Friday in a Facebook post. “I am 65 years old, and I am asking just that. I am no longer who I used to think I was. Not even close to ‘What’ other people or ‘Who’ other people think I am.”

Louganis shared some details of his plan in that post and expanded on them on two Instagram Live posts, one recorded from Los Angeles in his final night in the United States and the other recorded the following day from Panama City, the first stop in a journey that will eventually take him and his dog Gerald to Boquette.

That’s where they’re going to settle down — “for now,” Louganis said on Instagram.

“I don’t know how permanent, or, you know, I don’t know how long it’s gonna be,” he said. “I’m just embracing the ‘I don’t know,’ and also staying open for discovery. I think that’s what this part of my life is about, being open to discover what’s next and really, really, really do my best at being present in every place I go with every person I meet.”

About a year ago, Louganis said, he was in a bad place mentally, feeling “really, really alone and isolated.”

“It was really, really severe, real bad depression,” Louganis said. “And now I’m realizing, I have things to offer. So what that is and what that looks like, I haven’t figured it out. And I think that that’s what this is kind of about, is recalibration and figuring out what is next. … and just discover who I am too. I mean, that’s a big question.”

U.S. diver Greg Louganis spreads his arms and bends at the waist while in mid-dive during a springboard diving competition.

(Sadayuki Mikami / Associated Press)

Louganis says part of the process has been letting go of many of the items he didn’t realize were weighing him down. Last month, he received more than $430,000 at auction for three of his Olympic medals ($201,314 for his 1988 gold medal in 10-meter platform, $199,301 for his 1984 gold medal in 3-meter sprinboard and $30,250 for his 1976 silver medal in 10-meter platform).

“I needed the money,” Louganis wrote on Facebook. “While many people may have built businesses and sold them for a profit, I had my medals, which I am grateful for. If I had proper management, I might not have been in that position, but what is done is done; live and learn.”

Louganis has not mentioned what, if anything, happened with his other two gold medals, won in 1984 for 3-meter springboard and in 1988 for 10-meter platform.

Also on his posts, Louganis mentions that he sold his home last week. Public records list Louganis as the owner of a residence in Topanga. According to Zillow, a house at that address sold on Aug. 28 for $750,000.

As for most of his other belongings, Louganis wrote, “I decided to donate, sell what can be sold, give gifts, and give where things might be needed or appreciated. … A thought occurred to me, I had many friends, people I was close to, lost everything in the Woolsey Fire, and then the Palisades Fire just this year.

“I know I am choosing to do this, but their resilience is an inspiration for me to start anew, with an open heart and an open door. Opening up to possibilities.”

On Instagram, Louganis described the experience as “freeing.”

“The memories will always be in here,” Louganis said, placing his hand over his heart. “And so the other things are just stuff, you know? We don’t realize how much we hang on to, and what I’m also learning now in this process is how oftentimes we don’t realize they weigh us down. You know, like the shipping, the storage, all of that stuff.

“Actually, I was kind of discussing that with Michael Phelps, because he heard that I auctioned my medals. He said, ‘How was that?’ I said, ‘You know what it was? It was a relief, you know, because then it was like it was a weight off my shoulders.’”

ALEXNDER ISAK has broken his silence following his blockbuster move to Liverpool.

The Sweden international completed a deadline-day move to the Reds from Newcastle United to become the most expensive player in Premier League history.

1

Liverpool have shelled out a Premier League record £130MILLION to sign the 25-year-old.

Former Real Sociedad ace Isak went on strike in order to force through his move to Anfield and has yet to play this season.

And he’s champing at the bit to get started for the Reds following his successful self-imposed exile.

When asked what drew him to Anfield, he told the Kop club’s official website: “It’s a mixture of what the club is building.

“But what they’re building on top of what the club already is.

“The history of the club,” Isak told Liverpoolfc.com, when asked why Anfield is the place for him.

“Me getting the chance to be a part of this, I want to create history. I want to win trophies.

“That’s ultimately the biggest motivation for me and I feel like this is the perfect place for me to grow even further and to take my game to the next level and help the team as well.

“I feel like this is the next step for me in my career. I’m super-happy that I’ve been given this chance and I’m very motivated to do something well with it.”

Kop chief Arne Slot has handed Isak the historic No.9 shirt, which has previously been worn by club legends Ian Rush, Robbie Fowler and Fernando Torres.

THIS IS A DEVELOPING STORY..

The Sun is your go to destination for the best football, boxing and MMA news, real-life stories, jaw-dropping pictures and must-see video.Like us on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TheSunFootball and follow us from our main Twitter account at @TheSunFootball.

When I learned R.F. Kuang was taking readers to hell in her newest book, I groaned. Haven’t we done this enough? I’m not just talking about Orpheus retrieving Eurydice, Dante’s “Inferno” and Virgil’s “Aeneid.” Nor the 19th century poets and cults obsessed with everything chthonic. We as a culture have done katabasis — that is, a journey into the underworld — a lot recently: Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s “Gods of Jade and Shadow” (2019), Leigh Bardugo’s “Hell Bent” (2023) and Netflix’s “Kaos” (2024).

(I’m sure it has nothing to do with the political instability we’re facing. We probably shouldn’t worry about the historical pattern of writers becoming obsessed with the living journeying into hell whenever things aren’t going great in society. I’m sure it’s fine.)

I didn’t think there could be much new here. “Katabasis” is a dark academia fantasy where the protagonist — a psychologically wounded but talented student, lacking self-love, perspective or even just one friend to talk sense into her — journeys into hell to fetch the soul of a mentor she’s in thrall to … and may have killed. If this sounds familiar, well, Kuang’s newest hero, Alice Law, does bear similarities to Bardugo’s Alex Stern.

But I was wrong — there are new things here. The journey into hell has been done, but it hasn’t been done quite the way R. F. Kuang does it.

Like “Babel,” which relied on R.F. Kuang’s knowledge of linguistics, “Katabasis” is rich and textured because of her familiarity with the subject.

(John Packman)

Alice Law and her partner-in-hell, Peter Murdoch, are acutely aware of their literary predecessors, even guided by maps based on those journeys. They go because their doctoral advisor, a man they hate and worship in equal measure, has died and they need him back to ensure they get a good teaching position after graduation. It’s a flawed reason, and a greedy one, a fact neither character seems to understand. They don’t seem to see themselves fitting in anywhere in hell, actually — that tension is both annoying and amusing. Their trip is an intriguing take on the journey; things in hell have changed since Virgil played tour guide.

In “Katabasis,” we’re once again treated to the power of Kuang’s mind. It takes a smart person to write geniuses, and Alice and Peter are brilliant, if blinkered. Like “Babel,” which relied on Kuang’s knowledge of linguistics, “Katabasis” is rich and textured because of her knowledge of the subject, her deep familiarity with its shape and philosophy. Also like “Babel,” “Katabasis” revolves around the dark inequities cracking the foundations of a fictional department in an Oxbridge school, a place people would kill to get into and then die in while they’re there.

A warning: The nesting doll of literary references in “Katabasis” will be a delight to some and impenetrable to others. People who aren’t familiar with chthonic myths might want to do some research before reading. For example, there’s a joke toward the end about how John Gradus is clearly a fake name: The reference is never elucidated, and you’ll only get the joke if you know the phrase gradus ad parnassum means “a step toward Parnassus,” which is the mountain where Apollo and the Muses live in Greek myth, and that the phrase is often used by scholars to indicate a process of gradual mastery over a subject. So John Gradus is a journeyer in his own right, learning where he went wrong in life to reach the Lethe and reincarnate. This novel is not for the intellectually indifferent.

But generally, “Katabasis” is a more mature and less showy novel than Kuang’s earlier works. Perhaps this isn’t surprising; Kuang’s first book was published when she was just 21 and she’s 29 now. A person’s 20s are transformative even if they don’t study in China, at Oxford, at Cambridge and at Yale in quick succession. Readers who thought “The Poppy War” trilogy didn’t stick the landing, or that Rin became insufferable by the end, will be pleased that “Katabasis” does stick it, and that Alice evolves.

Some of the same themes from “The Poppy War” return — the horror of sex, the power of delusion to transform reality. But when Alice faces challenges, she lets go of her delusions. Peter is not disposable like Kitay. Both Alice and Rin sacrifice, but this isn’t Rin’s abject despair; Alice’s sacrifices are more nuanced than Rin could ever fathom.

As much as “Katabasis” has in common with Kuang’s earlier works, tonally it might have most in common with “Yellowface.” Unlike the brutality of “The Poppy Wars” or the tragedy of “Babel,” “Katabasis” maintains a slight wry humor throughout. There’s a satirical subtext here that wasn’t present in her earlier earnest fantasies. I mean, these PhD candidates choose to go to actual hell rather than have an honest conversation with someone at Cambridge. Kuang shows us how self-destructive that is, intriguing as the story reads. Like June Hayward/Juniper Song in “Yellowface,” Alice and Peter are so trapped in the flimsy reality they’ve constructed that they can’t see the obvious way out.

Because in “Katabasis,” hell is not other people. It’s defending your dissertation.

This is my one sticking point with writers taking readers to hell. Cultural images of the underworld are bound by writers, and though Kuang introduces new elements, she adheres largely to their canon. Her take on Dante’s City of Dis is — spoiler! — a regal college where academics spend eternity writing self-absorbed dissertations (shortened by real PhD candidates, of course, to “Diss” — there’s that wry humor). There’s no feedback, no advisors, just faith that someone’s reading. I understand why a PhD student would envision this as the worst kind of punishment, but I’m not convinced it’s the worst possible sin.

“Katabasis” is hell filtered through a scholar’s eyes. Orpheus’ journey has stood the test of time because he went for love. Dante went for knowledge. Alice goes for a recommendation letter. It’s an intriguing addition to the canon, but for mere mortals who haven’t survived abusive, plagiaristic and mystifying advisors to earn Oxbridge degrees — or even just bad bosses — it might be unrelatable.

Castellanos Clark, a writer and historian in Los Angeles, is the author of “Unruly Figures: Twenty Tales of Rebels, Rulebreakers, and Revolutionaries You’ve (Probably) Never Heard Of.”

A memory comes to mind from years ago. I am sitting at a desk in a very cold room on a farm. I was invited to go on a writing retreat situated on a farm outside of Makhanda. Things aren’t going so well. I want to write a book on Russia but I am supposed to be writing poems. I think of Boris Pasternak, how I have never read his poems but I am a fan of his nonetheless. I go for long walks. I hide away in my room from the baboons, the host, his wife and the other poets who have been invited to work (see write poems). I eat breakfast and lunch alone trying to find my way, my place in the world. I try to work, I try to work on myself. I wonder about my father’s Makhanda. What he saw, how he felt, how he coped and handled himself in a racist South Africa, a regime that was on tenterhooks.

(I am a writer, a poet writing in a post-apartheid South Africa, a democracy and yet still very much a racist country when aroused, when identified, when fractured.)

I make lots of cups of tea for myself and I eat salads for lunch and scramble eggs with onions in the morning. It becomes something of a mission to get up in the morning. I tell myself it is Russia that is on my mind.

Poetry, reading poetry and writing poetry has taught me not to be angry anymore. It has brought me closer to God, divinity, the spiritual and my own shame.

“If you want to become a philosopher, write a novel,” said Albert Camus.

In response, I say to that that if you want to become poet, become a philosopher. Seek mentors out. Forgive yourself, for a poet writes from trauma, pain and suffering and a minor poet writes about the love they have found, or rather an elusive kind of love that is responsible for their suffering and loneliness.

The minor poet appears at the beginning of his career poised for distinction. He is also a philosopher, schooling the reader on his views of the environment and the circumstances he finds himself in, the lack of common sense in the undisciplined and the degenerate interloper who lives on the fringes of society.

The poet does not write from love although love transforms the poet. When the poet writes with extreme feeling about political undercurrents, human community comes into view and society’s ill feeling is penetrated, then veiled, then cloaked. It is both the minor and the major poets who are heroic in their outlook on life, they want to do away with war, they want to write succinctly about love, the object of their affection (see the third poetry collection Remote Harbour by the South African poet Kyle Allan).

To soak the page with innumerable comments about political standoffs, suns that hover (see the poem Memory Of Sun By the Russian poet Anna Akmatova), the gravitas of the falling leaf, people that exist, hauntings, suicide, insanity, visions and visionaries, inward we turn to find the universe, to make sense of the world and this is a crucial component. That we see this. That life can be beautiful when strangers are kind.

There is substance in being frail and being on the receiving end of pity, understanding, even tolerance. The poet oils death and life with a kind of rational analysis, a perspective that honours the greats and the saints that came before, all that they wrote and said. People and poets aren’t going to live forever. We are all going to die. Nobody will remain at peace or happy forever. Unhappiness and discomfort is unnerving but they are free.

I pluck a meditation from Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius.

Take pleasure out of the simple pleasure of writing. It is dread that drives the pen and not pleasure. Pleasure is the reward but at the beginning of the journey it is dread that drives the pen and annihilates at will.

To aim higher than suspicion, that is what drives the female poet, and that is what drives me who is suspicious of everything. That is why I write. To answer what I question, to find solutions.

In South African Mangaliso Buzani’s poetry collection ‘a naked bone’ there is coherence, a specific timing between humble trusting people and events, virtue, and listening, the kind that trains your brain to become mentally fit when faced with the impossible and daunting. There are mental images that come to mind when I read his poems and I am able to perceive through my own senses and to withstand obstacle and challenge and fear of failure, to be able to face what is left, what you are left with when darkness falls or resentment falls.

Simone Weil asks of us to understand the female philosopher, the feminine mystique and puts us in the position to learn, to teach, to communicate, to be noble, to have the confidence to speak truth into both meaning and memory perfectly and imperfectly with intent and admiration.

What image or component do you conjure up when you think of the female poet, the female philosopher? What is the blueprint for her astonishing and surprising intellectualism? What does she want to achieve, how far does she want to go in life, does she want to have children, a family, stay in one place, travel to exotic locations, what meaning is to be found in the female poet  and female philosopher’s work? The image of this poet/philosopher is turned inward.

Poets are philosophers. Philosophers are poets. The work that is left behind speaks to our past and our future. It is timeless and free, it is of value and it connects us to our childhood where our self-development and search for meaning began.

To put truth first, as South African poets Arthur Nortje and Dennis Brutus did, as South African educationalist George Botha and South African poet Victor Wessels did, as Don Mattera did in his poetry, as the living poet Yusuf Agherdien does is not to be skeptical but to be virtuous and to accept our faults, the faults and our weaknesses, our limitations that we carry within, inherent, that forces us to turn inward, to rid ourselves and to escape ourselves from the irrelevant, from the irrational, to look inward again for coping mechanisms and imagination, illusion and creativity, to look for the real world, normalcy, the betterment of our mind, intellect and psyche in the parasite that is circumstance, manifestation and environment.

It is the poet that yearns for a better world. It is the poet that yearns to live without regret and misery. Misery is a negative emotion. To write poetry is to interact with and to encounter the divine, to collaborate with the universe, to perceive the availability of the recognition of damage, scars, wounding, and frustration. It is when the poet’s anger is justifiable, it is then when they write truth into being.

Monday

My goodness, is it time for the Cambridge Dictionary’s annual release of the new words that have made it into its hallowed listings already! It seems to come round quicker every year. Possibly that should be “more quickly”. Their grammarian splinter group will let me know.

Far more so than birthdays or adventures in HRT, this event is a great measure of how functionally old you are. How much of the world do you, quite literally, still understand? I have heard of, and indeed enjoy though have never personally deployed, “delulu” – a play on “delusional”. “Tradwife”, too – which is the practice of monetising all the most boring bits of motherhood and domesticity on Instagram, under the guise of upholding conservative tradition. I like to think that among tradwives themselves it also carries the meaning of “socking all the proceeds away in a secret bank account and taking off for Costa Rica the minute the last child turns 18”, but I have yet to confirm.

Then things get harder. “Mouse jiggler” is more innocuous than I first feared and just about inferable (software that makes it look like you are still working if you are not in the office but likely to be remotely observed) but “skibidi” defeated me. It’s a YouTuber’s coinage, and seems to mean everything and nothing. Only those born to the skibidi can use it properly. And that is as it should be. The words “bath chair”, “tartan rug” and “Werther’s Originals” remain for the rest of us.

Tuesday

Spare a thought for the poor Prince and Princess of Wales, soon to be up to their eyes in packing tape and cardboard boxes as they prepare to move from Adelaide Cottage on the Windsor Great Park estate to Forest Lodge on … the Windsor Great Park estate.

Nothing says “I live a life unimaginably distant from yours” than a) the ability to move house at whim and b) to one that’s essentially in the same garden. Yes, there’s an extra four bedrooms in it for them (otherwise it’d just be another cottage, not a lodge, duh!), but imagine a normal doing the equivalent and going to all the expense and stress to move a few doors up the road. Although take away the stamp duty, the unreliable movers, the crippling solicitor’s fees, the dealing with utility companies and estate agents – oh, and the sale price, which I didn’t so much forget as find myself unable to conceive of living a life without – and the whole thing becomes instantly feasible. Who knew? Who knew?

Wednesday

Another new word is upon us! What a week we’re having! This time it is “otrovert”. I thought at first it might be something to do with non-innocuous mouse-jiggling, but no. It is a term coined by the American psychiatrist Rami Kaminski for people “whose fundamental orientation is defined by the fact that it is rarely the same direction that anyone else is facing”. (He’s written a book about them.) Oh, for heaven’s sake. That’s mostly just your common-or-garden introvert in a world that’s largely extrovert and they’re just facing into a book – leave them alone. The remainder are simple contrarians, the most wearisome people in the world. They see a received opinion and immediately set themselves mindlessly up against it.

Thursday

Speaking of Jungian archetypes as we tangentially were, researchers are claiming that almost every activity is more enjoyable in company – even reading. Which is just more blatant propaganda from Big Extrovert bent on destroying the last havens of peace for those who don’t follow their busy, cacophonous lead.

We have to start pushing back at this point. We can attack the new contention on any number of grounds. On the practical: is farting better in company? It’s funnier, sure, at least for the farter – but beyond that? And even for the detonator, the law of diminishing returns sets in pretty quickly. On the philosophical: can masturbation, for example, truly be said to be taking place in company? Does it not become subsumed within exhibitionism? And on the methodological: this study was carried out using only American subjects, citizens of the most extrovert, camera-ready nation on earth. To take them as representative samples of humanity is a very great mistake.

Friday

Common sense and a small understanding of probability theory tells us it is technically possible – but still. No one really thinks they will live to experience it but on the way back from Edinburgh, where I’d been talking about my new book (Bookish – available in all good bookshops and maybe some bad ones too, if there is such a thing), I did. I had a perfect train journey.

No, honestly. I’ve no reason to lie. I thought all my travel luck had been used up when the 11.05 arrived on time. But then I got on and reservation screens were working and my seat had not been taken. The lady next to me was a reader and knitter. We smiled at each other as I sat down, and that was the full extent of our interaction over the next three and a half hours. During which: nobody yelled into a phone; the few children there played quietly together at their tables; the air conditioning worked and kept us at a comfortable instead of sub-arctic temperature. And the buffet was open.

This really happened. I feel I am going to pay for it somehow in the next few days – I am constantly checking the cats for signs of illness and my bank account for fraud – but until then, I shall revere the memory.

This scenic railway journey through the Cambrian Mountains has been named in the top ten percent of attractions worldwide in the 2025 Tripadvisor Travellers’ Choice Awards

A breathtaking railway journey in Wales has been hailed as one of the world’s top tourist attractions. The Vale of Rheidol Railway in Ceredigion has earned global acclaim, landing a spot in the top ten percent of attractions worldwide in the 2025 TripAdvisor Travellers’ Choice Awards, which are entirely based on visitor reviews and ratings over a 12-month period.

The scenic trip begins at Aberystwyth and takes passengers deep into the heart of the Cambrian Mountains, ending at the iconic Devil’s Bridge. This Welsh gem is actually three bridges built atop each other, towering over the Mynach and Rheidol streams.

The railway itself boasts a rich history, having been in operation for over 120 years since its opening in 1902. Initially built to serve local communities and transport goods like lead and timber, it now enjoys a reputation as one of the most picturesque railway journeys for all ages, reports Wales Online. Meanwhile, a warning has been issued to Brit tourists planning all-inclusive holidays to Spain.

READ MORE: New train stations will allow tourists to explore popular UK holiday destinationREAD MORE: Beautiful European train station could see 594-mile train journeys from the UK

The line spans a modest 12 miles and it takes about an hour to reach Devil’s Bridge. Once there, you can enjoy a snack or a hearty meal and a pint at the Hafod Hotel, which offers stunning views of the valley below from its seating area.

Visitors can then embark on two different walks: a brief stroll beneath the bridges offering the chance to witness the cascading water up close, and a lengthier, more challenging trek deep into the Rheidol gorge where spectacular views of the 300ft Mynach waterfalls await.

The Travellers’ Choice Awards rely on authentic feedback, with only a limited number of attractions earning this prestigious recognition annually. “Being recognised by the people who travel with us is what means the most,” said Llyr ap Iolo, general manager of the Vale of Rheidol Railway.

“Whether it’s their first visit or their fiftieth, we aim to make the experience special every time. This award reflects the hard work and passion of our staff and volunteers, and we are proud to share it with them.”

The Vale of Rheidol Railway boasts an exceptionally impressive TripAdvisor rating of 4.6 out of five stars, based on nearly 1,400 reviews. One traveller declared he was “absolutely amazed at how good it is”, whilst another described it as a “lovely experience with incredible views”.

A recent visitor penned: “Absolutely wonderful experience on this railway. We paid a little extra to travel first class and it was well worth it. Travelling in a 1920s cabin was so nostalgic and humbling. The station was immaculate in every way. Even the WCs were immensely clean. The pride the staff took in every aspect of the train itself was clear to see – even the chimney on the engine was gleaming.”

Another visitor gushed: “A brilliant afternoon spent on this quaint steam train. From start to finish, spectacular views. Devil’ls Bridge was excellent along with the Devil’s Punch bowl. The museum entry which comes with the train tickets was very good. A must do activity if you’re in Aberystwyth.”

Each morning before Cameron Brink pulls on her Sparks jersey, she scans a taped-up collage in her closet. Olympic rings, a WNBA All-Star crest, snapshots with her fiancé and a scatter of Etsy trinkets crowd the board.

The canvas is a handmade constellation of who Brink is and who she longs to be. Between magazine clippings and scribbled affirmations, Brink sees both the grand arc and the small vows that tether her: to show up as a teammate, a daughter and a partner.

“You have a choice every day to have a good outlook or a bad outlook,” said Brink, the Sparks’ starting forward. “I try to choose every day to be positive.”

That choice seemed to matter most when the future felt furthest away. The practice emerged in the thick of a 13-month recovery from a torn anterior cruciate ligament. Brink — the Stanford star and Sparks No. 2 draft pick — was forced to measure life in the tiniest ticks of progress after injuring her left knee a month into the 2024 season.

Sparks teammates Cameron Brink and Dearica Hamby clap hands as they pass each other on the court during a game against the Storm in Seattle on Aug. 1.

(Soobum Im / Getty Images)

Sparks veteran Dearica Hamby recognized how rehab was grinding down the rookie. One afternoon, she invited Brink to her home, where the dining table was set with scissors, glue sticks, stacks of magazines and knickknacks.

“I’ve always been taught growing up that your mind is your biggest power,” Brink said. “So I’ve always been open to stuff like that. I heavily believe in manifesting what you want and powering a positive mindset.”

Hamby had been building vision boards for years and believed Brink could use the same practice — both as a pastime and as a mechanism to combat the doubts that surfaced during her lengthy and often lonely rehab.

“If she can visualize it, she can train her mind the opposite of her negative thoughts and feelings,” Hamby said. “When you see it, you can believe it. Your brain is constantly feeding itself. And if you have something in the back — those doubts — you need something to counter that.”

The board dearest to Brink wasn’t crowded with stats or accolades. She crafted what she calls her “wonderful life,” layering in snapshots of her fiancé, Ben Felter, and framed by symbols of family and team.

“You’re a product of your mind,” Brink said. “Everything in my life, I feel like I’ve fought and been intentional about.”

Fighting was what the year demanded. However inspiring the boards looked taped inside her closet, the reality was gradual and often merciless.

From the night she was carried off the court last June to the ovation that greeted her return in July, Brink’s progress unfolded in inches — from the day she could stand, to the day she could walk to the day she touched the hardwood again.

Sparks forward Cameron Brink, left, and guard Rae Burrell, who are injured, shout and celebrate from the bench after their team scored against the Chicago Sky on June 29.

(Jessie Alcheh / Associated Press)

“It’s been such a journey,” Sparks coach Lynne Roberts said. “Cam’s mentality was just trying not to freak out. She was really focused on not being anxious about it.”

Brink came to practice with her game on a leash, her activity hemmed in by doctors’ timelines. While teammates scrimmaged, she studied sets from the sidelines.

Roberts praised her patient attitude as “great,” a skill Brink sharpened by the ritual of opening her closet and trusting the journey.

Kim Hollingdale, the Sparks’ psychotherapist, worked closely with Brink during her recovery. While bound by confidentiality, she spoke to how manifestation tools can anchor an athlete through the mental strain of long recovery.

“Being able to stay in touch with where we’re ultimately trying to get to can help on those days when it’s feeling crappy,” Hollingdale said. “Visualization helps us be like, ‘OK, look, we’re still heading to that vision. This is part of the journey.’ It gives purpose, direction and a little hope when you’re in the mud of recovery.”

That sense of purpose, she added, is about giving the brain something familiar to return to when progress stalls — a way for the mind to rehearse what the legs can’t.

For Brink, that meant keeping her game alive in pictures she ran through her head. Putbacks in the paint became reruns in her mind, and Hollingdale said the brain scarcely knows the difference: If it sees it vividly enough, the muscles prime themselves as if the movement truly happened.

What mattered wasn’t just mechanics. Tuning out noise became essential as Brink was cleared to return as a WNBA sophomore by calendar yet a rookie by experience. What could have been crushing pressure was dimmed by the vision boards — the “mental rehearsal,” as Hollingdale labeled it.

Sparks forward Cameron Brink shoots a three-pointer against the Connecticut Sun on Aug. 7.

(Luke Hales / Getty Images)

“I didn’t want to focus on stat lines or accolades coming back from injury,” Brink said. “I learned the importance of enjoying being out there, controlling what I can control, always having a good attitude — that’s what I reframed my mindset to be about.”

During Brink’s return against the Las Vegas Aces on July 29, she snared an offensive rebound and splashed a three-pointer within the first minute. And since, she has posted 5.9 points and four rebounds an outing, headlined by a 14-point performance through 11 minutes against Seattle.

Hollingdale tabbed Brink’s return a rarity. She often prepares athletes to weather the gauntlet of “firsts” — the first shot that clangs, the first whistle, the first crowd cheer — without expecting much beyond survival.

But upon Brink’s return, those firsts weren’t looming unknowns. They were rehearsed memories.

“That is a testament to her being able to manage herself, her emotions and her anxiety and all the stress and pressure,” Hollingdale said. “To come out and make a meaningful difference to your team straight away speaks to the ability to stay locked in and cut out the noise.”

By refusing to sprint through recovery, Hamby said Brink insulated herself from the pressure that shadows young stars. The vision boards, Hamby added, became a tangible expression of Brink’s decision to trust herself.

“She’s done it differently,” Hamby said. “For her, it’s more of a mental thing than a physical thing. She took her time, not listening to people tell her she should have been back sooner.”

When Brink shuts the closet door and heads to Crypto.com Arena for game day, she’s already spent the morning tracing the steps of the night.

On the next blank corner of her canvas?

“Being an All-Star and going to the Olympics,” she said.

‘My grandmother, a widow, sold her livestock in the 1940s and bought this land to start a vineyard. That’s where she made the wine,” says Pepa Fernández proudly, pointing towards a weathered building no bigger than a garden shed. We’re standing between two fields on a chalky road skirted by poppies, daisies and thistles. One field is lined with neat rows of lush vines, the other with small bush vines soon to bear monastrell grapes (the most dominant variety in these parts). In the distance, a sandy-coloured mountain range peppered with pine trees sits beneath a cloudless blue sky.

Pocket-sized Pepa is the face of Bodega Balcona, a family-run organic winery in Spain’s south-eastern province of Murcia. The vineyard lies in the picturesque Aceniche valley, in Bullas – one of Murcia’s three wine DOPs (denominaciónes de origen protegida), alongside Yecla and Jumilla. Each has its own wine route, scattered with museums and vineyards.

My girlfriend and I are in the area to explore Murcia’s food and drink scene after a tipoff from an old friend who grew up in the city (Murcia is the name of both the province and its capital). The province hosted two of Spain’s most prestigious culinary events last year: the Repsol Guide Soles gala and the Michelin Guide gala.

“Murcia is one of the best food cities in Spain,” a suave Granada-based gentleman in a fedora tells me on the way to the tasting room. We soon learn that its wine is pretty special, too, as we make our way through Bodega Balcona’s roster of earthy natural wines. Each glass is paired with national and regional dishes: cold cuts, local cheeses, almonds, tuna empanadas, and a Murcian favourite made by Pepa’s nephew, pastel de carne – a hearty meat and egg pie topped with flaky pastry.

After, we drive to the nearby Salto del Usero waterfall, where kids are paddling and teenagers are sunning themselves on rocks, like lizards. Following a quick dip in the chilly plunge pool, we go to meet Paco Franciso Muñoz Reales, who runs an organic farm nearby with his German wife, Heidi.

Laid-back and softly spoken, Paco is part of a local cooperative of growers, including Pepa, using ecological farming methods. He explains there was a little bit of tension with local farmers when he first started, but things have settled down. On a tour of his five-hectare estate, he shows me a seed bank tucked inside a pantry, rows of apricot, olive and lemon trees, and a tomato patch.

Nicknamed the garden of Europe, Murcia accounts for around 20% of Spain’s fruit and vegetable exports. This agricultural heritage stems from a vast network of fertile gardens, or huertos, that surround the city of Murcia, where baroque buildings, palm-lined riverbanks and buzzing tapas bars cluster around Plaza de las Flores. La Huerta de Murcia, as the fertile area is called, also influences local food culture, with Sundays traditionally reserved for family meals at rustic restaurants.

Each spring, the city also throws the Bando de la Huerta festival – a lively celebration of rural life where locals don traditional dress and feast on regional dishes. We arrive a few weeks later, so instead visit the rustic El Cañal Los Almillas restaurant, where we tuck into heaped platters of beef entrecote dusted with a layer of rock salt, and a fresh tomato salad with olives and lettuce, accompanied by plates of lemon (Murcianos squeeze lemon on everything). We finish with a classic Murcian dessert of crispy, deep-fried paparajotes – battered lemon leaves served with a dollop of ice-cream.

The restaurant is named after the city’s canal system, which are part of an irrigation system dating back to Moorish times. “Think of it as the Segura River being the heart and the canals the veins that deliver the blood,” our guide, Antonio, explains.

David López, the chef at the fine-dining restaurant Local de Ensayo, tells us these ancient systems are still in use today as he shows us around his huerto. López visits his patch daily, growing everything from lettuce, beans and cucumber to strawberries and aubergines. Fruit and vegetables feature prominently in traditional Murcian cooking, in dishes such as ensalada murciana (tomato salad with tuna, olives and egg) and arroz con verduras (rice with vegetables).

“It’s a way of life for me, somewhere I can bring the children to plant things and watch them grow,” López says while trudging through the mud, checking his crops. About 20% of the produce used in his restaurant comes from his garden, the rest being supplied by an ecological farmer with a stall at Verónicas market, which sells fruit, vegetables, meat, fish and olive oil to the city.

López and his wife, Carmen, show us around the market, pointing out local delicacies like mújol (mullet), almendra marcona (almonds), langostino del Mar Menor (langoustines) and alficoz (a type of curly cucumber). We finish at Café Bar Verónicas, which to the untrained eye looks like any other neighbourhood bar: metal countertops, shelves of pickled vegetables and wine, and locals chatting loudly. However, framed newspaper reviews hint at something more.

It’s run by Samuel Ruiz and his wife, Isabel Torrecillas. The young, tattooed chef could be Spain’s Anthony Bourdain. Ruiz, who trained at the famed El Bulli, was responsible for one of Murcia’s most exciting restaurants, Kome, a tiny Japanese-style tavern. “They didn’t have social media. No website. Nothing. But people still queued down the street,” Torrecillas tells us. Ruiz decided to shut down Kome and return to his roots, opening a barra with a twist in the heart of town, she explains as a plate of caballito (little horse in Spanish) lands on the table. The popular local dish usually features deep-fried prawns, only here it’s made with fist-sized crayfish, shell and all. It’s followed by a good-sized bowl of marinera, a kind of Russian salad with anchovies, served with crisp bread and homemade mayo.

When I ask Ruiz what sauce he’s plating up, he squirts a dot on to the back of my hand. “Try it,” he grins confidently. It is a delicious homemade saffron mayonnaise with anchovy, lemon and garlic. A frozen cocktail with an umbrella appears moments later, sent from his other bar next door, Colmado San Julián.

We finish up and say our goodbyes before wandering over to López’s restaurant. As we enter, he vanishes without a word and we’re seated by a window peering into the kitchen. Dishes soon arrive at the table from his excellent tasting menu (from about £65), which champions local, seasonal ingredients. Standout plates include a wild mushroom dish packed with umami, a deep-flavoured red Calasparra rice with vegetables, and his excellent signature dessert, a cross between a flan and a crème brûlée (a favourite of the legendary Spanish food critic José Carlos Capel).

The next day we drive 45 minutes out of town to Casa Borrego – a cosy eight-room gastronomic hotel with soft bucolic rooms and a burbling beck outside. For dinner, we’re treated to an elevated take on Murcian cuisine, including pani puri balls exploding with tuna tartare, and a massive pan of rich rabbit rice. Retiring to bed, we’re lulled to sleep by the sound of trickling water. With our time in Murcia nearly up, the following day we zip back to the city to hunt down one last dish: zarangollo, a simple courgette-and-egg scramble. We find it at a traditional tapas bar called Bodegón Los Toneles – all jamón legs and chalkboard menus.

We end the trip as we began with a local tipple, this time at CaféLab. Asiático is a heady blend of condensed milk, Licor 43, cognac and spices – said to hail from Cartagena. Like Murcia’s cuisine, its richness lies in the subtle layers – each one revealing something original, unexpected and distinctly its own.

The trip was provided by Turismo de Murcia. Sercotel Amistad Murcia has doubles from around €60 room-only; Casa Borrego has doubles from €120 B&B

One spectacular train route, on the highest railway track in Europe and the steepest in the world, offers passengers a breathtaking journey between two beautiful European cities

Rail travel across Europe is one of the finest methods for discovering the continent’s hidden beauty, with one route offering a breathtaking journey.

Europe features countless railway journeys that provide sweeping panoramas of the continent’s most magnificent attractions. Numerous routes wind through spectacular countryside and awe-inspiring mountain ranges, delivering thrilling and picturesque vistas unlike anything you’ve witnessed previously.

Yet, when it comes to selecting just one, one particular route connecting two gorgeous European destinations could well be the ultimate choice. It comes after reports of a small fishing village with some of the UK’s best seafood but hardly any tourists.

READ MORE: Travel fans urged to visit European country now – ‘before it becomes popular’READ MORE: ‘Secret codes’ cruise ship workers use in front of passengers, according to ex employee

The Bernina Express holds the distinction of being Europe’s highest railway line and the world’s steepest, reports the Express. This extraordinary expedition runs from Switzerland’s alpine hub of Chur to Tirano in northern Italy, passing through 55 tunnels and over 196 bridges while delivering passengers an absolutely stunning rail experience.

Gazing from the carriage windows, travellers encounter brilliant azure lakes, imposing viaducts, and expansive meadows that transform into magnificent snow-capped peaks as the journey progresses through the diverse terrains spanning both nations. The 76-mile voyage requires four hours to finish, and passengers can board the train in either direction.

The service features carriages with panoramic windows, plus an additional Bernina Express coach service linking Tirano and Lugano, which passes through gorgeous scenery and alongside Lake Como.

One traveller wrote on TripAdvisor that they “recommend everyone to go on the train,” describing it as a “fantastic experience ” and noting that the “adventure was beautiful.”

Another shared: “Once we mastered how to effectively book this train (train ticket first, later on seat reservations) the whole route from Chur to Tirano is spectacular. Observation cars are where most of the seats are, affording fabulous views.

“The train makes a stop for 15 minutes at a mountain viewpoint, so you can have a leg stretch. At Tirano we had 1.15 hours to have a potter and grab a drink. The engine runs round, so I.T. changes ends, so if you were sat on one side outwards you will be on the opposite side going back. Excellent day out.”

Ticket options include second class, first class, second class return, and first class return. Prices range between 66 CHF (£61.50) and CHF 226 (£210) for the full route from Chur to Tirano. Seat reservations are compulsory for the train and can be purchased on the official website.

READ MORE: Ryanair-approved cabin case to rival Antler gets slashed by 30% in summer sale

Labour activist Chris Smalls is back in the US after imprisonment and abuse by Israeli forces for joining the Handala Freedom Flotilla to Gaza. He tells us about his time in detention, the silence from the US, and what the flotilla movement means for worldwide solidarity with Palestinians facing genocide.

A woman has claimed she was “unfairly” charged by easyJet when she was travelling from London Luton Airport to Paris – and she said the experience only got worse

Travelling to the airport can be a stressful experience, and it can be even worse when things go wrong. This is exactly what appeared to happen to one woman when her easyJet flight wasn’t what she expected for more than one reason.

Emi, who shares her life on TikTok under the username emilia.petcu, recounted her less-than-pleasant experience travelling from London Luton Airport to Paris. She felt “unfairly” overcharged and described her flight as a “poor experience”, which cast a shadow over her Parisian getaway.

In her video, Emi alleges that easyJet hit her with a £96.00 fee for a backpack she believed complied with the cabin policy and should have fit under the seat. She branded the last-minute charge as “unfair”, despite airlines’ usual reminders to passengers to verify baggage rules before flying.

But the troubles didn’t stop there, as she also claimed the aircraft was dirty, adding to her travel woes. Her post included the caption: “The experience only got worse on board. The airplane was dirty, with poor hygiene and cleanliness conditions.

“The flight was delayed without clear updates.”

Emi documented the journey, which took place on July 24, showing both the bill and the state of the plane. Visuals of crumbs and rubbish strewn around her seating area did little to improve her impression of the airline.

The video has racked up a fair number of views since being posted, sparking a flurry of comments from viewers sharing their diverse opinions and experiences.

One viewer recounted: “This happened to me. I complained to easyJet and they gave me the amount in a voucher.”

Another chimed in with a similar experience, adding: “I had the same thing at Luton.”

A third shared their luggage strategy: “I’ve used the same backpack for the last three to four years with different airlines.”

Meanwhile, another commenter offered straightforward advice: “Follow the rules, no charges – simple.”

Some commenters came to the airline’s defence, offering an alternative viewpoint. One person pointed out: “Please bear in mind the staff have six to eight minutes to clean the plane and, if they are late, it’s 90% of the time not their fault.

“It can be if the plane in front of them was late taking off or landing – it delays others.”

Another person wrote: “Blame the set of passengers for leaving the mess, not the crew. If they were to tidy it, the flight would be delayed and they would get bother from the airline for being late and the passengers too.”

In the video, Emi didn’t showcase her bag, leaving viewers unable to judge its size; she only displayed the receipt given to her by staff upon paying the fee.

easyJet has not commented on this particular case, but the airline did issue a statement regarding its baggage policy. It read: “easyJet’s bag policy is well understood and all customers can bring one small under seat bag for free.

“We provide clear information on bag allowances including dimensions clear when booking, via email before travel and on our boarding passes and our ground handlers check bags to ensure they will fit in the cabin, and in fairness to customers who have paid to bring additional bags.”

Filled with scenic vistas of lush countryside, sugar-like beaches and crystal-clear waters, this short but impressive train journey has been crowned one of the country’s best

Idle along one of England’s most picturesque stretches of coastline on this stunning train journey that costs less than a tenner. The UK’s railways aren’t perhaps the first thing that springs to mind when you think of sugar-like beaches and crystal-clear waters. Plagued by constant delays, last-minute cancellations and insufferably busy carriages, many Brits only hop on board a train if they have no other choice.

However, if you look hard enough, you’ll find a slew of enchanting routes that snake through lush countryside before rolling past miles of soft golden sands and beach huts. The Riviera Line from Exeter to Paignton is no exception, and urgently needs to be added to your bucket list.

READ MORE: UK’s poshest train with seaside views and £11k cabins suffers major blow

Featuring 12 stops altogether, the train departs from Exeter St Davids, making its way down to the River Exe before hugging the coastline until you reach Teignmouth (this is the most scenic section of the line, so make sure you reserve a good window seat). From here, you’ll head back inland to Newton Abbot, edging close to Dartmoor National Park before heading back to shore for the final three stops in Torre, Torquay and Paignton.

Touted as the ‘family hub of the English Riviera’, exploring Paignton or staying overnight is well worth the effort. You’ll have a long stretch of pristine beach right on your doorstep, along with a promenade, traditional pier, colourful beach huts and even palm trees. Here, you’ll also find rows of arcades, thrilling rides, mini-golf courses and the acclaimed Paignton Zoo.

As previously reported, Paignton is about to become even more attractive following the council’s approval of a huge £14 million regeneration scheme. Described as a ‘once-in-a-generation opportunity’, the proposal, which has secured the backing of the Torbay Council planning committee, aims to revamp two of the town’s seafront areas as part of a broader sea defence initiative.

Apart from giving Paignton’s promenade a facelift with new seating terraces, the existing shelters, kiosks and cafes will find new homes along the sea line. The makeover includes a fresh entrance at South Green, opening up vehicle access to the seafront – though cars won’t be allowed onto the promenade itself.

“Like the rest of the English Riviera, Paignton benefits from a mild climate and sub-tropical palm trees, giving that real continental, holiday feel, and when we are blessed with good weather, you could be anywhere in the world,” hails The English Riviera tourist board. “But, like all our coastal towns, they showcase their own beauty in the winter months too, so whatever time of year you choose to visit, you are sure to have an enjoyable stay.”

With all of this in mind, it’s no surprise the Riviera Line was crowned the most scenic train journey in the country by National Geographic. Outranking prestigious tracks including the Cambrian Coast Highway and the iconic Western Scenic Wonders – the 27-mile journey was hailed for showcasing the ‘best views the English Riviera has to offer’.

“South Devon’s Riviera Line connects Exeter with Paignton, threading its way past towering cliffs, numerous estuaries (look out for egrets, one of the UK’s rarest birds), quaint market towns and Powderham Castle, with its deer-filled grounds,” the publication wrote. “Disembark in Newton Abbot to visit Newton’s Place, a 19^th-century church housing a small museum that explores how railways transformed this part of Devon in the 1800s.”

The Exeter to Paignton service, which takes around 53 minutes, departs multiple times a day. If you’re flexible with dates, you can grab single adult fare for as little as £8.40. There is a shorter version of this train which doesn’t stop at St Thomas, Starcross, or Dawlish Warren – cutting around 13 minutes from the journey, but still offering some pretty fantastic sea views.

*Prices based on Trainline listings at the time of writing.

Do you have a story to share? Email us at [email protected] for a chance to be featured.